A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again

A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again - 4 stars:

After my third book by David Foster Wallace, I’ve come to a few conclusions:

1. He loves tennis in a way that’s hard to overstate.
2. He seems to deliberately restrain his sense of humor—perhaps because he found it distasteful or not “serious” enough.
3. He uses 100 words where 10 would do.
4. His nonfiction is great; his fiction, more hit or miss.

On the essays:

• “Derivative Sport in Tornado Alley”: Beautiful, honest, and evocative.
• “E Unibus Pluram”: I know it’s a well-known piece, but I almost DNF’d the book because of it. Exhausting, monotone, and seemingly endless. Just when you think it’s over, another tirade begins.
• “Getting Away from Already Being Pretty Much Away from It All”: Fun, well-written, and eye-opening—a glimpse into a part of America I had completely ignored.
• “Greatly Exaggerated”: Didn’t leave much of an impression.
• “David Lynch Keeps His Head”: Deep, original, and thought-provoking. Made me see Lynch in a completely new light.
• “Tennis Player Michael Joyce...”: The true standout. A brilliant dive into the soul of tennis, written with deep knowledge and an open mind.
• “A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again”: The most accessible piece. Finally, some less constrained humor and a lighter tone—a well-deserved breather at the end of a remarkable, if often exhausting, collection.